Drive (3 page)

Clearly he had supernatural powers, or she was just that man-starved.

She would stay on her side of the car. She would not agree to anything. And if he made one wrong move, she'd scream to high heaven and throw herself out of the car. She was wearing a helmet, after all. It couldn't be much worse than taking a tumble on the track.

They got in the car, tension stretching tight between them. She twisted to face him, but he appeared more interested in the sundae than her, and for some reason that irritated her even more. He took a bite and offered the rest to her.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.

“I want to double-cross your ex.”

She glanced around. Was there a camera crew hiding around here? Someone was about to jump out and say she'd been punk'd. Lily had to be in on it, except she had no love for Dustin, either.

“I'm sorry. Can you try that again, please?”

“Dustin works for a man I have issues with. A man I'd like to see bad things happen to, but he's too well protected for me to do anything about it. Now, Dustin wants this hard drive from you because it's important to him and he clearly does not want his boss to know he doesn't have it. I'd like to take this hard drive off your hands and use it as leverage to make Dustin go away and possibly put his boss behind bars.”

This was crazy. Bat-shit crazy. Like, bad movie crazy.

“I don't have this hard drive,” she blurted. Yes, she did, and now someone else wanted it? Well hell. Another thing she'd tell a younger her—never take anything of Dustin's out of spite. She'd thought she was grabbing a box of crap, and instead, she was sitting on a ticking time bomb. She couldn't give it back to Dustin, not with the cops breathing down her neck. Letting the cops have it was out of the question. Once they had it, Dustin would know and she'd be dead. Her best bet was stashing it far, far away.

“Are you sure?”

She shifted in her seat. The man had the steady stare down to an art, and damn it if her thoughts didn't stray. God, she needed to get laid, by someone safe, sane, and nice, which meant Aiden was not a candidate.

“Think about it—”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Madison knew she was in over her head. She needed help in a bad way. The cops couldn't save her. Maybe a bad boy in a hot car could?

“You don't. That's what trust is, blind faith.” He leaned toward her, his gaze heavy-lidded and sensual. He was a bad boy, through and through. It practically oozed off him, and Madison had always had a weakness for the bad boys. But there was something different about him, too. He wasn't Dustin's kind of bad. So what other kinds of bad were there? She'd been good for so long, she didn't know.

She put her back against the car door, smoothing her hands over her thighs and wiping off the dampness. The man was already giving her sweaty palms! It wasn't fair. He'd taken her by surprise, deflating her confidence and knocking her off her stride. No more. She'd never again let a man get the best of her. But maybe he could help her. She didn't need a white knight, just someone to help her out of a jam.

Madison sucked in a deep breath and gave herself a mental shake. “If I do this for you, what do I get?”

If she'd learned one thing from Dustin, it had been that nothing is free.

“You?” He laughed. “I'm doing you a favor by eliminating this pain in your ass.”

Damn him, he was right, but she couldn't let him know that.

“Ah, but I'd be helping you by giving you what you needed.”

“Sugar, this isn't the only way to get what I want, but it is the more enjoyable and mutually profitable option.” His voice rolled over her skin with sensual appeal.

No, she would not entertain erotic fantasies about a man who was essentially trying to blackmail her. She liked good guys. With jobs and bank accounts under their real names. The kinds of guys who had 401(k)'s and retirement plans.

He leaned in closer, until she could make out the odd, snowflake pattern of blues in his eyes and smell the sundae on his breath.

A mental image unfolded of their bodies entwined, panting for breath, covered in sweat as he rocked into her. Desire burned in her veins, hot and insistent. She'd been with the bad boys, and look where it had gotten her—living on a boat, forced to work the only job she could get just to scrape enough together for night classes.

He said he was doing her a favor. She frowned, liking this even less. “You think I'd owe you something for this. . . .”

“Not that kind of favor.” His lips twitched with amusement. He produced a white square of paper and handed it to her. “This is a number you can reach me at. Someone will always answer it. You need anything, Dustin so much as breathes in your direction, let me know. Think about it.” He stared into her eyes for a moment, robbing her of the ability to breathe.

“And if I say no?”

He shrugged. “I'll have to cross that bridge later.”

“I'll think about it.” She took the card and opened her door, nearly tripping over her skates to get away from him.

“I'll be in touch, Madison Ross.”

That was it? He walked into her life, threw it into disarray and wanted to leave?

“It's Madison Haughton now. I divorced that asshole.” She slammed the door with more force than was necessary and tossed the keys through the window.

Aiden caught the keys and grinned at her. He slid his sunglasses back on.

“I like the sound of that. Madison Haughton.”

He wanted to play this game with her? Well, she'd learned a thing or two from her sleazeball ex-husband. And the first thing was to never accept help from a stranger.

Chapter Three

Madison pulled her helmet off and stared at the facade of Classic Rides. She couldn't count the number of times she'd driven past the shop, eyeing the row of rebuilt, restored, or refurbished classic cars in front. She would forever be a fan of the retro, rockabilly style. It embodied everything she'd grown up wanting.

She let the motorcycle helmet rest on the swell in front of her seat. Both the body of her motorcycle and helmet had been painted by one of the roller derby league's referees, so they sported a uniform green-flame pattern. It made the bike easy to pick out and hard to steal. But it also made her conspicuous, something her cop shadow must love. Thankfully she'd ditched them by parking behind the rink and cutting across an empty lot to a side street. By her estimation she had maybe an hour before Detective Smith tried to find her. The trade-off was that if one of her ex's goons wanted to find her, she was a lot more vulnerable without the badges backing her up.

The sun crawled toward the horizon, painting the sky with brilliant shades of orange, yellow, pink, and purple. A picture-perfect Florida snapshot. She couldn't enjoy the riot of colors, not with some guy stalking her, or whatever this Aiden DeHart was doing. It was hard to believe he wanted to help her double-cross her ex-husband. Hell, she didn't want anything to do with Dustin. The less involvement she had, the better chances she'd survive the year and after that, another year. Small goals, but it meant she kept breathing.

A simple solution was to leave Florida altogether. Except it was the last thing she hadn't given up. Maybe it was silly to hold on to the idea of living in the city she'd grown up in, but it was all she had left. Which was why she was here. She'd stuck her head in the sand for far too long. Not anymore. If Aiden stood any chance at all of getting Dustin out of her life, she needed to hear him out.

The idea of meeting Aiden again had her stomach clenching. She didn't know if she should be afraid of the man or not. Those eyes, his body, that car—it was the kind of bad-boy siren's call that turned off her better judgment. Which was exactly why she was here when the shop was closed and everyone was gone. She was not looking to run into Aiden, she just wanted to learn a little more about him. She'd passed it at least a hundred times on her way to derby practice.

She swung her leg off her Honda Rebel and frowned. The lights were off, there was a chain corralling the cars out front, the bay doors were shut, and yet the low gate wasn't barring entry to the parking lot.

Maybe someone had forgotten to close it? That was stupid. Someone could cut the chains, bust some windows, and be gone with all those pretty cars. But, that wasn't her problem. She just wanted to look around. If this man was going to follow her, confront her while she was doing a fund-raiser, well, she wanted to know more about him. The Internet hadn't told her anything, except he was a co-owner of the garage and involved in a wreck some years ago. That was it. No one could have that little of an online footprint. These days people had a Facebook profile for their dog and a Twitter account for their cat. So who was Aiden?

The hours on the front window said they were open until seven, and it was edging past eight. The neon signs in the windows of the businesses up and down the street lit up the night and somewhere nearby a band played a salsa tune. She cupped her hands around her face and peered into the darkened interior. She could make out a counter, a rack of shirts, and some other displays that meant nothing to her—but no people.

What kind of a business were they running here? Henchmen “R” Us? What would make a businessman turn hired muscle? She'd glimpsed enough of Dustin's so-called work to know the type, and Aiden was not the type to be hired out by anyone. He was something else entirely.

“Can I help you?” a voice said behind her.

Madison spun around. What she wouldn't give for her baseball bat right now! She had pepper spray attached to her keys, but for some reason the bat made her feel safer. The way Aiden stared at her, assessing and weighing her presence, she could have been one of his cars. Well, if he wanted a look under her hood it wasn't happening.

He'd showered. She could smell the scent of his soap. He'd changed into a black button-down shirt with
LUCKY 13
stitched onto the shoulders in white thread, the sleeves cuffed around his biceps.

“Shit, you scared me.” Madison took one step back and her calf hit the outcrop of rock below the window. Aiden was maybe two feet away from her. Where the hell had he come from?

One brow arched and he tilted his head to the side. His gaze traversed her body without a care if she noticed or not. Her nipples tightened and she balled her hands into fists. No, she would not have a “thing” for the man who wanted to manipulate her. She was going to date nice, rule-following types from now on.

“What are you doing here, Madison?” The way he rumbled her name, deep and low in his chest, revved something inside of her.

She licked her lips. This was about being free from Dustin and all the crap he slung her way. For better or worse, Aiden was linked with her ex.

“I, uh, thought we should talk more.” Maybe she could get him to talk his way into the truth. “You surprised me earlier. I didn't know what to say or think.”

The muscles in his jaw jumped. Did he believe her? She didn't believe herself.

“Look, I just want Dustin to go away, so whatever it takes to make that happen, I want to do it.” Preferably her ex-husband would end up handcuffed and in jail, but she doubted that. He'd acquired a new boss since they separated.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What changed your mind? You didn't seem that interested earlier.”

She pushed her shoulders back. “I'm not saying I'm interested. I'm willing to hear you out. It's not like we had a whole lot of time to talk this afternoon. Like, how exactly did you come to work for Dustin?” Anyone who worked for her ex-husband wasn't a person she wanted in her life, that was for sure.

Now if she could just get her libido to fall in line.

“We don't talk about that here,” Aiden replied.

“Then where do we talk about it?”

“Not here.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You've got a mouth on you.”

She stared at him, but couldn't figure him out. What did he want?

He glanced over his shoulder, but there wasn't another soul on the lot or the street in that moment, and she'd given her cop shadow the slip.

“Why the hell do you care?” Madison had always had her daddy's knack with language. It was one of the only things the old sailor had left her with before he split.

“Never said I did.”

They were talking in circles. She wasn't getting anywhere with him.

“Got plans?” he asked.

“Uh . . .” She should have been at roller derby practice half an hour ago, but this was more important.

He took a step toward her, invading her space even more. He reached out his hand and plucked a leaf from her hair, holding it out so she could see it before tossing it on the ground. “Are you doing anything right now besides holding me up?”

She licked her lips and blinked at him. “Not right now.”

Aiden might be a crook and a criminal—which went against everything she'd promised herself she'd stay away from—but she needed Dustin out of her life so she could really move on.

“I'm curious about something.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” Right. She needed to not reply in movie quotes.

“Wouldn't it be a lot safer for you to give the drive back to Dustin?”

“Yes. Yes it would be.”

“So you have it.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You have it. So why haven't you given it to him?” He crossed his arms, which just made his biceps bulge.

Madison sighed. “It's complicated.”

“I'm a smart guy.”

She studied him for a moment. Did she trust him? Could she? Madison didn't know how much longer she could hold out. “I have it, but the cops and Dustin want it. No matter who I give it to, someone will want me dead or behind bars. I don't like either of those options. I'm not stupid, but that's what people like to believe. Appearances work in my favor.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, when people see a tattooed girl like me, they make assumptions. I just let them believe whatever they want to.”

“Where is the drive?”

She bit her lip. Could she trust him? Her gut said yes, but then again her gut had also said yes to marrying Dustin—the biggest fuck-up of her life.

“Somewhere,” she replied.

Aiden sighed. “You aren't going to tell me?”

“I can't. I hid it from myself.”

“Can you get it back?”

“Maybe. If I think it's the smart thing to do.”

“If you aren't going to trust me, why are you here?” He spread his arms a little and glanced around at his domain.

“Because . . . because I'm between a rock and a hard place. I want Dustin out of my life, but he's convinced I'm trying to steal from him. Then there's the cops who have me over a barrel. I have to sneak out of my own house just to get a little privacy. And now there's you. You say you don't want to help Dustin.” She shrugged. “So maybe you'll help me.”

She tipped her chin up, refusing to be ashamed of her past. Dustin's sins were not hers. When she'd left Dustin, she'd promised herself she'd follow the letter of the law. All the rules. So far, all it had gotten her was a burned car, all her cash stolen, a collection of bruises, and a charge for assault for protecting herself after her ex sent thugs after her.

The cops wanted her to spill the beans on Dustin, except there wasn't anything to spill. Their tactics of refusing help were forcing her into this. Into making a deal with someone who might be as much of a crook as Dustin. But did she have any choice? No.

“I'm between a rock and a hard place here,” she said again. She couldn't hold his steady gaze, so she glanced over his shoulder to where her Honda Rebel sat just inside the fence of Classic Rides.

Aiden let out a bark of laughter. “You have no idea.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in.” She glared at him.

“Why does he hate you so much?”

The question sliced her deeper than she would like to admit. She sucked in a deep breath, hating the pang of hurt in her chest. “Lots of reasons. We were never good together once I grew up a little and remembered I had a spine.”

Aiden nodded. One sentence couldn't encompass just how wrong their marriage had been. Looking back, Madison suspected Dustin wanted her to grow into the role of his accomplice, and she'd pushed back. She might have stuck her head in the sand, but deep down she'd known he was bad and giving in to him once meant a lifetime of regret. So she'd played the role of a rich housewife instead. It was safer.

“Come on. We can talk more in the car on our way.” He grabbed her hand and her mouth went dry. He tugged on her arm, and she followed to keep from face-planting on the concrete. Aiden led her around the building to where a tricked-out Dodge Challenger sat idling. The white exterior with the royal-blue racing stripes was cast into shadow by the crazy blue running lights under the car. The headlights shone a dim, lime green, making it look like some alien contraption had just landed.

Aiden opened the door for her.

Her rational mind screamed,
No!

While everything else purred,
Hell yeah.

She needed to figure out what his angle was on all of this. He couldn't get away from her in the car, so he'd have to listen. On the other hand, she was at his mercy. She gripped the pepper spray for comfort. If he did anything she didn't like, she'd use it on him.

Aiden leaned on the door, but didn't let go of her hand. She turned to peer up at him. What would he do now?

“Madison?”

“What?”

“You will always be safe with me.”

She blinked at him, taking a moment to process his words. Safe? With a bad boy? What kind of line was he feeding her? And yet, her knees were a little weak, her heart doing crazy laps around her chest. Men were trouble, but she wanted to believe that somewhere out there was the kind of man who would say those words to her and mean them.

“You'll have to prove it,” she replied.

He chuckled and grasped her chin with his other hand. He filled her vision, lowering his face to hers.

“That sounds like a dare.” He pitched his voice low.

“A smart man would realize it was.”
Oh my God, shut up!
There was a very good reason she never, ever took out her mouth guard when she was at a bout. Her mouth just skated away from her.

He slid his hand up to cup her cheek, rubbing the calluses across her skin. Their faces were inches apart. She could smell mint on his breath, the fragrance of his soap wrapped around her senses, and her head swam.

He was going to kiss her.

She shouldn't want him to. He was possibly out to blackmail her, screw her ex-husband, and create a world of problems for her. But maybe, just maybe, she could trust him?

Her brain and libido were butting heads for sure.

“Get in the car now or I'm leaving you here.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Let go of my hand and I will.”

He uncurled his fingers from hers though he didn't give her any space.